The storm outside was brutal. The small town’s roads were hardly cared for this time of year, even though it was inevitable that snow would roll in ‘bout now. Cassie couldn’t see the street outside the window, the single working lightbulb above the two gas pumps flickered from the cold snap that had swept over the day. A morning fog had turned to sleet which turned to powder. She was bored. All of her friends had headed into the city for a concert, they were probably in cute outfits, drinking draft beer, swaying to the slow strum of a guitar. And here she was, snowed in overnight in the station with her hardback novel and barely two bars of signal. At least the pay was decent.
The jack-o-lantern in the window was growing moldy this late into the season. The owner, Mr. McMillan, was unable to throw it out. His daughter would throw a hissy fit every time he touched it. There it remained, turning black and shriveled. It looked out of place next to the large Santa who waved to the patrons with a hitch in his elbow.
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AuthorA collection of short stories and flash fiction pieces. These original tales are the property of Alycia Davidson 2017-2023. This section of my site is rarely used now as I tend to post more short stories on my Patreon. Archives
July 2023
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